


Discipleship

by bibliomaniac



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Prequel, just wanted to write a lil thing about kass, so this is that thing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: A quick oneshot explaining how Kass came to become the traveling minstrel he is during the events of BOTW.





	Discipleship

**Author's Note:**

> cw for bullying, death

Pakim is tired.

It’s the sort of tired that comes from the weight of having the history of an entire people resting on your shoulders. It is also the sort of tired that comes from aforementioned people shoving their kids at you left and right, hoping that one of them will have the great honor of taking on the mantle of Sheikah Historian. 

He sometimes wishes he weren’t born into such a prestigious family. His older sisters Purah and Impa both have important roles as well, but they sure seem to deal with it much better than he ever has. He also sometimes wishes this succession thing didn’t have to be dealt with so…early. He’s only sixteen. Can’t they give him a bit of time _?_ But, sure, whatever, Ganon is coming, they need a Plan B, he gets it. He just also gets that nobody really cares about what he actually _wants._

Anyway, the point is, while he’s grateful for all the opportunities he’s been given in this life—getting to hear all the ancient stories and songs of the Sheikah, for example, or getting to live in Hyrule Castle alongside Princess Zelda, who is another reason why Pakim is tired, but more on that later—he’s also exhausted and a little bit considering screaming. So. That’s how that is.

He rubs the bridge of his nose as he finishes off another letter explaining that he’ll be returning to Kakariko soon to evaluate the kids there, and no, you really do not need to send your child here, nice initiative, but _please_ do not. He can feel a headache coming on.

He decides to take a break from all this nonsense to go on a walk through the castle to find an empty room to do his daily lute practice. Maybe he will also catch an ‘accidental’ glimpse of the Princess (nice), or perhaps of the Princess fighting with the Knight (less nice, because the Princess clearly has a crush on Link, which also means she does not have a crush on Pakim.)

He takes the long way through the gardens, where Princess Zelda is studying a historical record and unsubtly peeking at the people working on the Guardians. Link is nearby practicing his swordplay and, also very unsubtly, keeping an eye on the Princess. They’re not fighting today, though, and the Princess looks beautiful with her eyes sparkling, so. Both good things.

He finds an open room far off from people and their prying ears and takes out his lute, going over a few scales before starting on A Song of Storms. He’s not actually very good at the lute, if he’s being honest. He prefers the poetry aspect of being historian. But he needs to be well-rounded if he’s going to teach all of this to someone else, so he practices anyway.

The days go on like that, monotonous and boring, until the Calamity strikes. Then everything changes. Zelda is in the castle, Link is in a healing sleep, and everyone he knew is just…gone. He was lucky to be back in Kakariko at the time of the Calamity, but sometimes he still wonders why he was preserved when nobody else was.

He never did end up taking a disciple, to the chagrin of most of the Sheikah. He couldn’t bring himself to, with everyone hurt and doing their best to rebuild. They don’t need the additional burden of what he bears each day.

Pakim is in his nineties somewhere—he finds it hard to keep count these days—when he is asked to visit the new Elder of the Rito, Kaneli. He’s the second Elder since the Elder who reigned during the time of the Calamity, and it’s tradition for the Sheikah Historian to meet with new leaders to provide wisdom and context. 

After he gets to Rito Village and exchanges pleasantries with the Elder, he finds a dwelling far from the others to do his daily lute practice. It takes a while for him to notice low chirping nearby, and even longer for him to realize that the person, whoever they are, is chirping the melody to A Song of Storms. Oh, crap. He creaks out of the dwelling and finds a gangly, ostentatiously-colored Rito on the ground with a scrub brush and a bucket of soapy water.

“What are you doing?!” Pakim thunders. Or, well, he attempts a thunder, but his voice is rather croaky, so really it turns out a bit unimpressive.

The Rito looks up at him, eyes wide, and squeaks out, “Cleaning?” 

“Well, yes, obviously. I meant the—you know what I mean! You were listening in on me!” 

“No! I mean—yes, but—I just don’t hear much music anymore, and—” The poor boy is babbling now, clearly terrified. Pakim feels a bit sorry for him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it wasn’t allowed—”

“These are secret songs passed down generation to generation in the Sheikah tradition, meant to be heard by Sheikah only,” Pakim hisses. “If anybody finds out you heard…”

The Rito looks like if he could turn white, he would. “I really didn’t mean—I—”

Pakim sighs, then looks down on the Rito with a clinical eye. “You picked up that tune awfully quickly,” he observes.

“The Rito of Lurelin are very musically inclined,” the Rito mumbles, sounding a bit like he’s reciting something oft-said. “We start singing almost before we start talking.”

“Lurelin? But that’s…” Pakim blanches. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”

Lurelin was a small community of Rito near the coastline, filled with Rito of different coloration and build than the more numerous group of Rito who live in the mountains. Or, well, it was filled, until a group of monsters attacked about a year ago. He had heard there was only one survivor.

“It’s fine,” the Rito says, turning his head away. It’s clearly not.

“What’s your name?” Pakim asks. 

“Kass.” He’s still looking away, like there’s something in the distance that’s particularly interesting. Pakim checks to make sure. There is a rock that’s sort of shaped like Impa’s head, but other than that, nothing.

“Well, Kass. How about we forget this happened?” Pakim offers. “You don’t tell and I won’t either.”

Kass brightens, turning back. “Really?”

“Sure.” Pakim attempts a wink, but it turns into a blink. Oh well. “Go on, then. No more eavesdropping for you.”

Kass nods vigorously and runs off to the lower levels of the village.

Later that day, Pakim walks down to observe the goings-on of the Rito. He waves to the healer, the innkeeper, the bow-maker. He only stops when he sees a group of children gathered on the large platform named after Revali. (Pakim knew him, or knew of him at least. He would have been incredibly insulted to only get a platform.)

“So I was near the top of the village,” one of them says, examining their wingtips detachedly, “when I heard something very interesting.”

Kass is hunched in on himself, looking very out of place and very small, especially for someone so big.

“What would that be, Huck?”

“I heard that the giant here heard something he shouldn’t have, and that if anybody heard about it, that he’ll get in huge trouble. Isn’t that interesting, Nekk?”

Kass shrinks in on himself even further.

“Very interesting. I wonder what the new Elder would think about that, Huck?”

“Please don’t,” Kass says in the smallest voice Pakim has ever heard. 

“Guys, stop bothering him,” says a girl off to the side, scowling at everybody.

“But he’s done something wrong, Amali. We can’t just let him get away with it,” one of the boys—Nekk, Pakim thinks—says smugly.

Pakim frowns deeply. He’s seen this sort of thing before. And…well, this might be a bit more impulsive than the sort of thing he does nowadays, but he can’t just stand by and watch this happen, either.

“Actually,” Pakim says pleasantly as he steps forward, “That was a bit of a show for anybody who might be watching, wasn’t it, Kass?”

Kass whips around, looking surprised. Pakim can see a few tears beading at the corners of his eyes. The other kids shuffle around, ashamed.

“What?” Kass asks softly.

“It’s all right, my boy. I was going to wait until after I had officially asked Kaneli for permission, but we can let them know now. Kass here displayed such excellent musical skills that I’ve decided to take him on as my disciple.” Pakim smiles dangerously. “You wouldn’t be giving the new Sheikah Historian a hard time, would you?”

“But—he’s not—” Huck fumbles, flabbergasted. “He’s not a Sheikah! He’s not even a real Rito!” 

“We’re making a special exception because he shows such promise,” Pakim says lightly. The Sheikah are going to kill him. “Nothing for you boys to worry about.”

Kass stares at him wordlessly, then gives a small, hopeful grin.

“Now, we’ve obviously discussed this already, but it will involve quite a lot of being away from this town,” Pakim says, walking over to Kass and giving him a small, comforting pat on the shoulder. “You’re going to have to travel all over. Is that still all right with you?”

“Absolutely,” Kass breathes, eyes sparkling.

Pakim looks at him and remembers another young person who had the stars in her eyes, and for once, he doesn’t feel guilt. He only feels a quiet calmness, and even though he has no reason to believe so, he knows he’s made the right choice. Somehow he doesn't feel as tired anymore.

He extends his hand. “Well, then. Let’s get going.”

**Author's Note:**

> things might be a bit wonky bc i accidentally messed up the timeline at first and then i got tired from rewriting lol
> 
> based off a conversation in the revalink chat lol


End file.
